


Spidergirlhood

by Not_You



Series: Eight-Armed Hugs [16]
Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Animal Instincts, Biting, Blood Drinking, Crossdressing, Crushes, Domestic Fluff, Dress Up, F/M, Light Bondage, Menstruation, School Dances, Spiders, Wedding Planning, really just trace amounts of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 19:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5177120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first brood is growing up, and the second brood are right behind them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Over the month after the second brood emerges from their cocoons, Natasha feels very sorry for her poor mate. First of all he has to adjust yet again to suddenly having preadolescents where his tiny babies were just a moment before, and then he has to deal with his adolescents all getting their first period within the same week. Natasha remembers how much the strange, mammalian function had irritated her the first time, and the girls are the same way. Natasha has explained this and prepared the girls and Clint as best she can, but no matter what the girls know intellectually, instinctually they know they're leaking a vital and odoriferous fluid that can be used to track them, and it makes them paranoid and cranky. Worse still, the hormones make them emotional, so when Rada snaps at Clint she has a crying fit over being so mean immediately afterward. Clint does the best he can, dispensing painkillers and hugs and otherwise staying out of the way. 

The girls often want to be alone, so Clint and Natasha both spend a lot of time playing with the second brood, and helping Steve help them adjust to their bigger bodies. As it had been for their sisters, this is an intricate process that involves a lot of fussing and crying and falling off of things, but just as before, there is one consolation: clothes. The children are still growing quickly, but nothing like the speed that keeps little spiderlings in near-disposable, doll-size smocks. Anatoly isn't all that thrilled and spends a lot of time sulking, but Lev is delighted when Clint takes them out into the world to choose a few things each. Most of the girls tend toward the practical, little overalls, tunics, and leggings, but Lev finds a white sundress with some ruffles and a few prismatic sequins. Natasha is very proud to have found a human mate who just smiles at his son and agrees that the dress is very pretty.

Even as the spiderlings grow, it remains very easy for mammalian eyes to mistake Lev for a girl. He wears his golden ringlets down, often with a crown of braids and always with some pretty clips in it, and delights in his pretty dresses to the point where Natasha invests in several large aprons and smocks to help him keep them clean. Anatoly is almost aggressively boyish, on the other hand, keeping his hair clipped as short as Clint's and favoring dungarees, overalls, and board shorts. Despite this vast difference in sartorial values, the brothers get along quite well. Their sisters continue to dote on them just like the first brood does on the whole second one. Olga is particularly maternal toward them, Svetlana lets them help her pick colors for her paintings, and lets them in on her personal sign language, which she apparently only shares with them and with Ania and Tamara. 

Natasha has picked up the gestures for 'come here,' 'food,' and 'pretty,' but is otherwise as clueless as Clint. Extended conversations in this language always drive the rest of the brood mad, but Natasha certainly isn't going to do anything about it but console them and encourage them to create codes of their own. Ania gets into this as well, but it's something they can all share, and they leave notes for each other and their older sisters all over the place, lines of strange little hieroglyphs on notebook paper along with alpha-numerics. Ania is the best at those, and is the first to ask for any tech of her own: a tablet, so she can start making simple games. Tony is of course delighted by this, and it doesn't take them long to get into more involved projects. This intersects neatly with Zhanna and Zoya's interest in robotics and other hardware, and the four of them can spend hours in the workshop together.

Tamara and Susanna both get into gymnastics, and Tamara learns martial arts beyond the self-defense that Natasha teaches all of her children while Susanna and Raisa learn to cook at Clint's elbow. With the first brood indisposed by menarche, they apply themselves to making things with chocolate in them. Natasha enjoys bitter chocolate, but does not understand the desperate craving for it that so many humans have. Clint has a sometimes alarming sweet tooth, but chocolate isn't his favorite. Natasha blames him anyway, and he just laughs. He's still more than willing to taste-test brownies, cake, and various ice cream concoctions.

At least the first brood seems to appreciate their efforts, and are soon recovered enough to go back to school. Their little siblings are of course very curious about school, and now each day ends with a debriefing, a discussion of cute boys, (and girls, Lev seems decidedly straight while Marina may grow up gay) and the best explanation they can give of whatever they were supposed to have learned today.

Listening in on these convocations is how Natasha finds out that the school is having a dance two days before the permission slip comes home. Natasha is happy to sign it, but takes the first brood aside to remind them not to bite without asking, and to keep an eye on each other.

“If there's good bass, I don't want it putting you into an instinctive state,” she explains, and the girls all giggle and blush and roll their eyes, Oksana elbowing Anastasia, who elbows her right back.

Gwen and Peter time their next visit for the night of the dance so that Gwen can help Natasha and Lev help the girls primp and Peter can talk about sports with Clint and Tamara, the only two unoccupied members of the family who care at all. He also addresses a few remarks to the girls, who all giggle. The desperate furor of their first crush on Peter is over, but they still hold him in very high esteem and measure other prospective males against him, and Gwen ranks with Pepper in terms of feminine role models. The second brood are all watching the beautification curiously, except for Anatoly, who sits on the floor playing what Clint calls stabscotch. The practice knife he's using is heavy and will hurt if he screws up, but it's too blunt to do much damage.

Once all the girls but Rada have their dresses on and she has her tie straight and everyone's makeup is perfect, it's time for Clint to drive them to the school and then to lurk in the shadows as the most unobtrusive of chaperones until the thing ends at half-past ten. He has an earpiece that he's going to put in once the girls are too occupied to notice so that he can report back to Natasha. She waits until Gwen and Peter leave, of course. First Lev has to do his eye makeup and Olga has to show him her tapestry project while Raisa and Svetlana put glittery clips into Gwen's hair and Ania admires the small robot arm that unfolds from Gwen's chair to hold a hand mirror so she can offer her opinions on placement.

After her guests have left, though, Natasha puts a comm into her own ear and pings Clint while the second brood all pile onto the couch to watch 'Alien,' their current favorite movie despite their disappointment at the awesome monster getting killed.

“Hawkeye, report,” Natasha murmurs, and he chuckles.

“All clear so far. Half the brood is dancing, the other half are getting drinks, and that Morales kid actually has some moves.”

“He's a thirteen-year-old boy who mentions Latin dance classes without horror or disgust, I'm not surprised. Has anyone said anything about Rada's outfit?”

“Only that it's cute. Which it is.”

Natasha smiles, watching 'Alien' from a great enough distance that the sound doesn't interfere with Clint's voice while the second brood crunch crickets and laugh at the scary parts. “It is. Is my little Marina doing all right?”

“Marina is dancing with a prismatic girl we haven't met, and it looks fairly serious.” 'Prismatic' is the new PC term for mutants whose skin colors are things like green and blue, since 'chromatic' was already taken, and Natasha smiles.

“Is she light yellow, with a third eye and no hair?”

“Why yes, yes she is.”

“Her name is Daisy. She came over one afternoon when you were in transit.” The girl's skin is like sunshine, or a clearer, even brighter version of the center of her namesake flower, and she has just the sort of elegant head and neck that don't need hair. Of course, she's thirteen years old and doesn't see it that way, so shy that Natasha is glad to hear that she's attending the dance at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Knowing that her girls will come home hungry, Natasha makes them an enormous cold-cut platter, complete with the horrible over-processed bologna that only Clint likes. Raisa stays up to help her make it look nice. It's the kind of thing Susanna would like, but all of them are still tired from growing so much, and Susanna grew to be the largest and is the most tired, already fast asleep in her web. Raisa yawns and wobbles a little, but puts eight fat locusts like rays around the edge.

“Very pretty,” Natasha tells her, and then scoops her up. They're all really what people call too big to carry now, but of course the Black Widow can manage easily, especially over short distances. She feels very fortunate, able to cuddle her precious sleepy baby like this. Raisa is round and soft and adorable, and Natasha sends up yet another silent prayer that she doesn't grow up to think she's fat when she's not.

The whole rest of the brood is already curled up in its various individual webs, but Tamara is still awake as Natasha deposits Raisa. Natasha smiles at her, and once she's sure Raisa is comfortable, goes over to kiss Tamara's forehead and stroke her furry hair, so much like Clint's.

“Love you, tiny spiderling,” Natasha tells her, and Tamara smiles.

“Love you too, Mama.”

Clint pings her the second she leaves the brood's room, and she's glad that her comm is still in her ear. “Reporting again,” he says. “We're nearly done here. Ariadna did get a bit instinctual with the bass, but Alisa was watching her, and everyone has been having fun.”

“Excellent. The little brood is asleep and I have meat waiting.”

He chuckles. “Of course you do. Remind me to take you human-style dancing again.”

Natasha smiles. “I'll keep it in mind.”

About twenty minutes later, JARVIS announces Clint and the brood. She's glad to see the girls bright-eyed and happy, and Clint not too tired. The whole mob comes streaming into the kitchen to attack the platter, giving Clint time to greet Natasha with a kiss. She nibbles at the corner of his mouth and rests her head on his shoulder for a moment. He smiles, nuzzling her hair.

“Hey, spiderbabe.”

“Mm. Squishymammal.” She bites his neck fondly, glad to be too full and well-trained to worry about hurting him.

“Mama,” Ariadna calls, “Rada's in looo~oooove!”

They both head for the kitchen before Rada's angry retort can turn into pinching or biting. “If she is I'm happy for her, Natasha says, popping a locust into Rada's mouth. “There's no point in teasing.”

“Especially when you're just jealous,” Marina says, sticking her tongue out at Ariadna, who slaps her arm.

Clint groans. “I'm going to go visit the babies, your mama can deal with you for a while.”

Natasha just laughs, and Clint goes quietly into the nursery. “Your father and I are in gooey icky mammalian love,” Natasha tells them after Clint has left the room, “and there's nothing wrong with that.” All of them giggle.

“It's true,” Zoya says, “and you owe us a wedding!” The second the words leave her mouth, the others begin to clamor for a big, pretty wedding when spring comes. Natasha has to admit that timing the honeymoon to fall at the highest point of her cycle is a pretty good idea.

“If we do have a big pretty wedding,” she says, “where do you want to be for the honeymoon?”

“The X-kids are having a camp,” Alisa says, and Natasha has to assume that there's one Alisa particularly wants to spend time with because of the way she blushes. 

Natasha smiles, and promises that she will make it as big and as pretty as she and Clint can stand. For now she makes sure that everyone is fed and remembers to remove her makeup before going to bed. Getting the second shift of eight girls tucked in comfortably, Natasha supposes that this spring she should invest in some kind of robust barrier, like a well-fitted diaphragm.

Lying in her own web with her darling, sleepy human mate, she asks him what he thinks, smiling at his exhausted little laugh. “Honey,” he says, “I know I've got enough love for twenty-four kids, but I'm not getting any younger.”

“And it does seem just a bit excessive,” Natasha says, which makes him laugh again, wrapping an arm and a leg over her to pull her back against his chest.

“Just a bit,” he says, kissing her cheek. “So,” he mumbles after a quiet moment, “about this big, pretty wedding...”

“I know you love purple,” Natasha says, “but I feel like it clashes with my hair.”

Clint chuckles. “I'm the groom, spiderbabe, I'm supposed to just say 'yes dear,' and only put my foot down when it's really important.”

“Fine, but you get to choose the cake, since I don't like it anyway.”

“We can get a meat cake,” Clint tells her, nuzzling her neck. “Groom's cakes are a thing, I'll just have a bigger one than usual.”

“And it'll be purple,” Natasha mumbles, making him laugh.

“Topped with Cool Whip for my proud white trash heritage,” Clint adds, snickering.

“Topped with anything you want,” Natasha says softly, kissing him in a very human way that makes him melt a little, gathering her into his arms.

“I'll ask for input from the girls,” he says, rubbing her back as the two of them slowly drift to sleep in their web.

The next morning, Natasha gets up to find Clint and the younger brood debating the merits of various frosting and cake combinations. Some kind of berry cake with peanut butter frosting, chocolate on chocolate, white cake with strawberry cream... They all sound equally gross to Natasha, and she's glad to accept a plate of locust and eggs from Anastasia.

“Maybe we should ask Grandpa,” Olga says at last. “I think he and Uncle Steve like cake, they can have a vote.”

Breakfast for eighteen is a pretty drawn out process, but at last, when all the plates are washed and the leftover locusts are wrapped up for later, the whole collective charges downstairs as soon as JARVIS relays that Bucky and Steve will be glad to see them.

Clint chuckles in the quiet after the girls leave, with that look of pleased disbelief at his own life that always makes Natasha bite him. This time she wraps around him from behind, sinking her teeth into his neck. He lets out a quiet cry, and obediently follows Natasha back to the web, letting her strip him and then pin him down and cover him in bites that would be hungry if she hadn't just eaten a full plate of locust and eggs. He whines and squirms, shuddering as she knots his wrists into the web, pinning his hands over his head.

“I'd say you had spring fever,” he gasps, as she sucks and bites at his chest, “but I know it isn't spring.” Natasha just bites harder to make him yelp, and he does, struggling a little against the web and grinding hard against her thigh. She chuckles, reaching down and squeezing gently as Clint trembles and whines. She had asked him once, if he makes his delicious little prey noises on purpose, and he had laughed and told her that she just brings it out in him. Now he writhes and whimpers as she strokes him slowly, biting him harder and harder over his chest and shoulders. 

Clint is panting as she straddles him, each exhalation a soft, high, helpless sound. She wants to kiss him again, but she's enjoying that noise too much, and settles for rolling a condom onto him and then sliding down onto his cock with a long sigh. Natasha isn't even sure that she can get pregnant outside of her season, but they already have sixteen and there's no sense in taking chances. She rolls her fingertips over her clit in a precise, goal-oriented way because she can tell that Clint won't last much longer.

With a nearly-soundless cry, Clint comes, rutting up into her and making her hiss as she works herself into and through her own orgasm, shuddering and stretching out beside Clint to kiss him and lick up the few tiny drops of blood welling up from the deepest bites.

“Fffffuck,” Clint whispers, still tangled in the web and apparently perfectly fine with that. “You know I'd marry you even if the kids didn't want it, right?”

Natasha chuckles, nipping his neck. “I know.”


End file.
